


This is A Gift, It Comes With A Price

by Leomiragon03



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Adventure, After Adveture Adventure, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Bofur and Nori are sweet, Death, Durincest, Dwalin Goes Through Some Changes, Everyone lives, F/M, Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse - Freeform, Kili is adorable, Love, M/M, Nobody Dies, Nori is Friend, Ori is adorable, Sarcastic Nori, dark side, sadness is sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-01 05:15:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4007263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leomiragon03/pseuds/Leomiragon03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Four Horsemen have spirits encased in stones, and those who wield the stones are called Wielders. The Arkenstone, as the dwarves call it, is one of those stones, so when the Arkenstone is not found in the mountain, Gandalf decides to tell the dwarves of where it may be. With Famine, a Wielder, who has gone Dark Side. Bilbo ends up sending a letter to someone who can help them retrieve it, because the dwarves are too frightened to do so. And this person is Death. Yes, Death. And somehow the Ring of Power gets roped into this, Sauron is discovered, and War is going to the Shire. A group of eight people, six dwarves, a wizard and a Wielder are going on an adventure. And soon everything takes a turn, not even I am sure how this story will end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Four Horsemen

**Author's Note:**

> So, my updates are going to be really scattered, you might have to wait a month, or a week, or an hour. I dunno. But, they will be updated. 
> 
> So, I will take any and all ideas and consider them, tell me what you think.... Please. Fluff. Action. Smut. Anything. I have doing pretty good with ideas with this story, but other series I began, not so much, and I do not want that to happen with this one.
> 
> Edits are welcome as well, because I miss things sometimes, or all the time.... Heh, heh.  
> Um, thanks for reading! :)

Many years ago they walked Middle Earth, each one of them bringers of evil and destruction. The four horsemen, one of the first origins of evil in Middle Earth. There was Pestilence, bringer of disease and plague, seen roaming on a pure white horse, bent low to spread foul plagues. Then there was the Red Rider, the second horsemen, War, astride a red horse the color of fire. He who was called War was granted to take peace from Middle Earth and the men would be made to slay one another. The third horsemen rode astride a black horse, this was Famine, he was the horsemen who increased desire ten fold, encouraged greed and was deceit itself. The last horsemen was feared by all, for he was Death, astride a pale horse, the most powerful of the four. The four were created by Hell, and would live as ones of hell. They roamed Middle Earth bringing death, destruction, war and famines they went.  
For many years they did this, till the prayers and begging for help brought the Valar into the fray. The Valar struck down on the four, and since they could not be killed, they entombed their spirits in stones and scattered them. The first horsemen, Pestilence, was trapped inside a bright green gem, that was placed on the first pedestal in the stone hall where the Valar had gathered. The second, War, was encased in a red gem the color of blood, and was cut into a hexagon shape. The third horsemen’s gem was the most beautiful for his greed and desire shone through and morphed the stone into a gem of pure beauty. It was white and sparkled with glimmers of many colors, all who saw it desired it beyond belief. The last horsemen, Death, was put inside an opal, and was quiet in his encasing.  
Though the horsemen were trapped inside their gems their spirit were restless and vengeful and leaked through their prisons, affecting those around them, and so the Wielders were created. Wielders were those chosen by the Valar and made to carry the gems in Middle Earth and control the power they held. They were bonded with the spirits inside and held the power of the horsemen. Those who got the gems that were not Wielders were called Keepers, the power of the gems would poison their minds and spirits till they were no longer themselves. Wielders could be tainted by the gems as well, though differently, they would begin to become the horsemen and would take on their traits and mind space as well, they would be made to be of the Dark Side.  
The days of the Wielders were well, the fought in the first War of the Ring and were strong and ruthless against their enemies. Till, one day the Wielder of Famine fell to the darkness of the horsemen, he turned against the other three and a great battle against the now full horsemen and the three wielders was fought, the Wielders overcame this battle. Famine crawled away after his defeat and his tainted mind began to tear apart in a war between himself and the horsemen. His body was found in the yet to be established Lonley Mountain for the dwarves has yet to inhabit it. The Famine Stone was lost and not found on the body of the Wielder. And so the spirit of Famine could not fully restore itself in another Wielder and became weak, for the stone was lost. It would move from one wielder to the next, tearing apart the minds of its person because it was unstable without its gem.  
After the Lonley Mountain was established, and under the reign of King Thror the stone was found, but the Wielders had been long forgotten by the world, for they became quiet and did not interfere in the happenings of the people of the world. They found the stone and saw its beauty and called it the King’s Jewel, and soon was given the name the Arkenstone. Of course, as the Wielder of Famine, a dwarrow was drawn to the stone, but had to withhold his desperate desire. His mind was being torn apart and the desire for the jewel was overwhelming, seeing the King bask in its presence and claim what was his. When the dragon Smaug came storming through the gates of Erebor, the dwwarrow saw his chance to take what was his. And so after King Thror lost the stone in the treasury as he fell, and was distracted by the dragon, the dwarrow took the gem, and all the dwarves as well as the dragon believed the stone to be lost in mountain and protected by the dragon. The full Wielder, now with his stone, escaped the fate of death by dragon fire and the first full council of the Horsemen Wielders in a long time was held.  
The Wielders were gathered in a clearing in the Old Forest, standing silently, black hoods up, and just standing in four different corners, making a square. Death stood in the upper right hand corner of the square, across from Famine, War was to her left and Pestilence diagonal to her. As the most powerful of the four, she decided to take charge and stepped forward into the center and let down her hood to reveal herself. Her ebony hair tumbled down in waves to her lower back, and her stormy grey eyes, which had a ring of a cold deathly pale ring around the pupil, stared down the new/old addition to the group. Her skin was pale, though not deathly pale as you would expect, her lips were a soft pink, and while her gaze was cautious and threatening, it was not cold.  
“It is good to have the return of a Wielder of Famine, I trust you are well with this new change?” She inquired diplomatically. Famine now stepped forward and pulled down his hood, his hair was shoulder length and a muddy chocolate brown with several grey streaks running through it, his golden eyes, which had a bright white ring with purple and blue flecks ringed around the pupil, had shown determination and a glint of challenge.  
“Yes, it is much easier to have this position as a Wielder to have my stone to stabilize myself.” He replied cooly, and schooled his features, but Death could already see the something off that lurked behind his features, though she nodded none the less.  
“Well, that is good.” She paused for a beat and then recalled the last order of business. “Now, I need to know if you have completed the bond.” Famine immediately nodded and smirked.  
“I have, Death. I have.” Death returned the smirk and nodded slowly.  
“Then, that is all. Just remember these two things. One, keep yourself in check, and never let the horsemen’s spirit see your weakness…. And two.. There are only two things that can kill you, the destruction of the stone, which is nearly impossible, and us”´And with that Death lifted her hood and left the clearing. Pestilence pulled down her hood to reveal her honey blonde hair, tanned skin and soft pink lips, she smiled warmly at Famine, who merely looked at her, emotionless. Pestilence looked very young, probably only about twelve in human years.  
“I wish you all the luck in the world Famine, it is a hard life we have, so you’ll need it. Never give up.” She smiled once more and left the clearing in the same direction Death went. This left the two males of the horsemen left in the clearing. War pulled down his hood and faced Famine. War had rusty red hair, cold brown eyes, which held a ring of blood red around the pupil, and an unmistakable look of pure blood lust in them.  
“This is a hard life we have been given, indeed, and I intend to help you through it.”  
They shared identical smirks, and saw a similar look in each other eyes.

 

About sixty years had passed since the time when Death had first met the new Famine. Death was the oldest of the current Wielders, and had been alive for many years, and met many different people, gone through many tragedies, had many moments of fleeting happiness, but there was one event that has stood out in her mind, and has regretted for a long time, and it was that day. If only she had stopped Famine when she could have, then that village wouldn't have been destroyed, if only she had seen the madness already, if only she hadn't just brushed it of as the change. If only, if only, if only… If only she had stopped him, maybe Pestilence wouldn't be missing, maybe those people would be alive, maybe, maybe, maybe. If, if, if. She felt a drop of water land on her hand, and gazed down, and saw the clear water splatter all over her hand, the road beneath her scrolled forward and heard the sound of hooves landing on the dirt road. More drops began to fall, and she just stared down at the spot where that single drop had landed. The rain beat down on her black cloak and stained her black trousers with water spots, her grey, layered, and frayed tunic stayed dry beneath her cloak, though she expected it wouldn't for long if the rain continued like this. The forest that bordered her on either side was the composition of the Old Forest. This was most likely the reason why she was having so many thoughts of that night that everything that had occurred in the last sixty years led to. She shook her head, her ebony hair whipping her pale skin, and looked ahead at the road in front of her. Since the day that her only true friend, Pestilence, went missing she had traveled alone. There was no way she would ever trust Famine or War, no, they have gone dark side, because they didn't listen to her, they showed weakness, and now Middle Earth would pay for. Death has spent the last sixty years hunting them down, but to no avail, they were too fast, and she hated to admit it, too powerful. They were dark side, she was not. And when a Wielder goes dark side they can wield the full power of their horsemen spirit, and she could not, because she had morals, and a soul.  
Who knows how many hours had passed before she made camp in a small clearing in the forest, and tied up her pale white horse on the tree. She rubbed his muzzle and sighed. Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this? I don’t kill unless necessary, and I am not dark side, I may not have led the most virtuous of lives before becoming a Wielder, but I mean, WHY? She walked over to a tree adjacent to Mara, her horse, and plopped down with her legs crossed, and just stared at the green grass as it could solve her problems. But, sadly the grass had no answers.


	2. It's Gone From Bad to Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death replies to the letter, and ends up going to Erebor. She meets the Company, and plans begin to form. But plans change when there are revelations from a map of a place that nobody would dare to go to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not very happy with this chapter, it seemed fast to me, and not my best.  
> So, Death is beginning to get more comfortable with the dwarves, and I am trying to include ones that are talked about that much, because honestly, they are my favorites.  
> Thanks for reading! Please comment and make suggestions, I know my writing isn't the best, so edits are helpful!

Bilbo's Letter to Death:  
To Lady Death:  
A company of dwarves led by Thorin Oakenshield embarked on a long, tiring, dangerous, and successful quest across Middle Eath to reclaim the kingdom fo Erebor, and as you know the dragon Smaug resided there, he was slain by the new King of Dale, Bard. It appears though that a ceratain jewel, which was not found in the mountain, and was once owned by King Thror, is missing. I, as well as the dwarves, have been told by a wizard, called Gandalf the Grey, that a person you know may be in possession of this gem, and was hoping that you could help us retrieve it. I am aware of the risks that this is to you, because as hearing that he may have the gem, I have heard that he is not exactly stable at the moment, so I also offer you held in retrieving it. If you are willing to help, you and welcome and needed in Erebor.  
Sincerely and With Good Intentions,  
Bilbo Baggins

 

Bilbo sat in a burgundy armchair by the fire his husband across from him, and the Company surrounding him, they were all gathered in the drawing room of Thorin and his quarters. It had been a week since Bilbo had sent the message to Lady Death, which had been most nerve wracking for him. Why had Bilbo sent it you might wonder? Well, after Gandalf had told them of this whole ordeal with horsemen, the stones, and who most likely had the missing Arkenstone, how two of them had gone dark side and one had gone missing, and also how Death was the only sane or non missing horsemen Wielder left, he had been the only one both brave and intelligent enough to send the letter. Originally, the Company had pleaded with Gandalf to send it, but he said that Death and him were not on the best terms, leaving thirteen dwarves arguing on which one of them to send the letter. The first one they turned to was Ori, but he nearly fainted at the thought of sending a letter to the Wielder of the Horsemen of Death’s spirit, and honestly nobody blamed him, and so it came to Bilbo who decided to take up the job.  
All of the dwarves had expected a response by now, and were slowly growing more and more depressed from the lack of response from the Wielder.  
“Maybe she is ignoring the message and won’t help us.” Ori murmured sadly from his spot next to Dori on the purple velvet couch.  
“Then we’ll hunt down Famine our-self!” Dwalin growled.  
“How are we to do that? Death him- I mean – herself couldn't do it! And we don’t stand a chance against Famine, and for that matter, or War! They are not like dragons! They are indestructible, not even a black arrow can kill them!” Balin snapped, they had just won the mountain back, and he was not about to risk any of their necks just for a stone.  
“They are not indestructible remember? A horsemen or the destruction of their stone can kill them.” Bofur chided with his usual unfailing optimism, and hopefulness. Nori groaned at that, and moved from his spot in the corner.  
“Yes, that is true Bofur, but that would destroy the point of going after Famine, because we would have to destroy the stone to kill him. We need-“ But the sound of scratching on the door stopped him from continuing, he ran over to the door and opened and a raven flew in and landed in the middle of the bear skin rug on the floor in front of the fire, he squawked and held out his foot where a piece of parchment was tied. Thorin knelt down in front of the bird and untied the message reverently. The raven squawked and flew out of the room, and Nori shut the door behind the bird. Every waited with baited breath as Thorin unfurled the message. He cleared his throat and read aloud.  
“To Master Baggins, Consort Under the Mountain:  
First of all, congratulations to the dwarves on their reclamation of the Kingdom of Erebor, there are not many with the courage to even attempt such a feat. As for the stone, the Arkenstone, I believe the dwarves call it, is indeed in possession of a person I know. That person is one of the wielders, and the Arkenstone is the stone of Famine. I would be willing to help you retrieve the stone, but there is much involved with this, and there are more players on the chess board than me, and Famine, as you probably know. Famine, as well as another, have long been a problem that I have been trying to fix, but sadly have not been able to locate, nor eradicate, so I will accept your offer of your help with the Stone of Famine, and the Wielder herself, and will head to Erebor immediately.  
~Death”  
Thorin finished reading the message, and by the end has a small smile on his face, at first there was only silence and then the room burst into cheers. Thorin allowed this for a moment before raising his hand to silence them.  
“It appears that we have gained an ally in Death.” He stated with a smile.  
“When do you think she’ll arrive?” Bilbo asked him, and he turned to look at Bilbo with a fond smile, but it was Gandalf who answered from his spot in a wooden chair by the writing desk in the corner of the room.  
“I expect very soon, probably by night fall today, Wielders move incredibly fast.” The dwarves exchanged glances with each other than ran out the door, down the stone halls of Erebor, which had been cleared of rubble in the past few weeks during the time that was not spent searching for the Arkenstone. They rounded the corner and walked down the wide hallway made of grey stone and at the tops were a forest green with gold scrawls running through it. Erebor’s magnificence was truly not overly described. It was.. Beautiful, and more than any of younger dwarves of the Company who had not seen it imagined. They came to the front gates of Erebor and looked out at the sunset that had begun from the night. In the distance you could see a pale white horse galloping across towards them, on its back was a figure cloaked in black, their face covered in shadow. They were small by the looks of it, about the size of a dwarf. They rode up onto the bridge, their horse made clip clop sounds, and Death halted the horse and slid gracefully of its back. The horse bowed its head and stared at the ground. The person was wearing a hooded cloak and they could see black trousers, as well as a tunic that was layered with different shades of black and grey and had a piece of silvery rope tied around the waist that outlined her figure. They had messenger bag made of brown, faded leather that crossed across her torso. She lowered her hood and revealed her ebony hair, pale skin and soft pink lips. Her eyes were the most stunning part of her, they were a stormy grey with a silvery bands around her pupil.  
She bowed as she said, “Death, at your service.” Thorin stepped forward from the group to welcome her.  
“Thorin Oakenshield, and this is my Company. Dwalin, Balin, Oin, Gloin, Nori, Dori, Ori, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, and my nephews, Fili, and Kili, as well as my husband, Bilbo Baggins. We are all very grateful that you have decided to let us help you with your mission” He said, and pointed to each of the dwarves respectfully.  
“Pleased to meet you, and I am grateful you contacted me with your dilemma.” She replied easily. Death could feel the tragedy that had occurred here, and decided to help cleanse the newly reclaimed kingdom once Famine and War were taken care of. Thorin nodded and gestured for her to follow him inside, and one of the dwarves, Bofur, she believed it was took Mara, and guided her to the stables, and told them he would meet them soon. Death hadn’t been in Erebor in a long time, not for nearly five hundred years, and it had definitely changed. It looked better, but worse at the same time, you could tell from the elegant golden scrawls and stonewaork that before the dragon attacked it had been more magnificent than it had been before, but the dragon had taken its toll on the city.  
They arrived at Thorin’s drawing room and the dwarves took different places in the room. Death walked over near the gathering of chairs near the fire and stood. She looked around when she heard someone rise from a chair and saw the damn meddling wizard. She narrowed her eyes and looked away. The wizard walked over near the fire and leaned against the mantle. He waited until everyone had found their place before speaking.  
“Lady Death perhaps it would be best to start with why Famine has the Arkenstone?” He asked, and Death gave an entirely fake polite smile and nodded in agreement. The dwarves watched the exchange and shared curious looks with each other.  
“Well,” She began, gaining the attention of everyone in the room. “The Arkenstone, as you call it, is actually the stone that Famine, the horsemen’s spirit, was encased in by the Valar. You see, each of the Wielders has a stone that carries the part of the spirit of the horsemen we are bound with, that we cannot. It stabilizes us and also increases our power. We carry it with us always. And the Arkenstone is the Famine Stone. As well as being a talisman, it is also one of the only two ways to kill a Wielder. Which, I guess you already knew.” She explained this lightly, but there was serious gleam in her eye as she spoke, her hand instinctively went to her coat that she wore beneath her cloak where her stone was.  
“How did the Arkenstone, if it is the Famine Stone, come to be in the Erebor mines?” Balin asked skeptically. Death looked up at him, brought out of her reverie.  
“Many years ago was when the first Wielder went dark side. A battle was fought between him and the other three Wielders at the time. He crawled away from the battle on the brink of death, and rode away to find a place to die, or try to heal, he went to the Lonley Mountain, and this was before Erebor even existed, he crawled deep inside the mountain, the other Wielders tracked him and found his dead body in a cave, but when they searched for the stone it couldn’t be found. It’s a guess that he hid it for no one else to find, but it’s hard to say.” She sighs and looks around the room. “I am aware of how important this stone is to your people, but this stone is poisoned and a curse. In order for it to be safe it must have a Wielder.. that is sane, unlike the ones that War and Famine are currently. They’ve gone dark side.” The dwarves nod in thought, and she gives them a moment before asking the question that has been ailing her since she got the letter. “You do realize that the stone always has a Wielder, correct?” They looked up at her, confused. “Even when it was under the possession of King Thror?” They furrow their brows, and she sighs again. “The Wielder that holds the stone now was the same Wielder that the stone had when Smaug came, that is how he got the stone, when King Thror dropped it, before it could go into the treasury he grabbed it, excaped the dragon and lived on. He was already insane, the Wielder, before he got the stone. If a Wielder doesn’t have the stone then the spirit of the horsemen begins tearing apart their soul and killing them…” She paused and leaned against the chair, before telling them. “King Thror, when he had the stone, he would be called a Keeper, those who are not Wielders, and not bound to the spirit of the horsemen are called Keepers. They are poisoned by it in a different way, and are affected by the power of the horsemen..” She trailed off, leaving the dwarves to piece it together.  
“Gold sickness…” Balin whispered, barely audible. Death nodded numbly.  
“Yet you still the stone to reunite the kingdoms of the dwarves, so we need a plan that keeps the King,” She looked to Thorin, who stared back. “Safe from the power of Famine, meaning there must be a Wielder, yet at the same time having the stone on hand to reunite the dwarf kingdoms.”  
“Any ideas?” He asked her.  
“Not exactly an idea. I need to kill Famine, as well as War, because they are in league with another. Find the next Wielders, get them here with the Arkenstone, and then train them so they don’t go dark side… It’s a lot harder than it sounds.” Bilbo snorted and Death looked over at him.  
“It sounds incredibly difficult already, kill two nearly indestructible immortals and find two people in all of Middle Earth who are the next Wielders.” Death chuckled, at his comment.  
“The finding the Wielders won’t be too difficult, I’ve done it before. But killing Famine and War, is not going to be easy, because first of all, tracking them is nearly impossible, and since they have gone dark side they hold all the power of their horsemen, while I only use part of it. Using all of it would most likely cause me to go dark side.” She shook her head ruefully at the thought. They sat in silence, running through ideas in their heads. The young prince, who reminds Death of a puppy, raises his head suddenly with his one finger up, he was having an ‘aha’ moment. All the people in the room turn to the young prince, and he looks straight at Death with a smile that could melt hearts.  
“What if we called one of them here? Just one, you can handle one right?” And then all eyes are on Death.  
“Possibly.”  
“We could call one of them here, capture them, interrogate them, find out where the other is. Find them. Kill them. And take the stone.”  
“That might just work.” Kili beamed at Death’s approval, she gave the puppy a nod and looked to Thorin.  
“War, right? We would send a message to War… Would he come is the question?” He directed the question to Death, who turned and began pacing, and muttered to herself.  
“War has gone dark side, meaning that he is more horsemen than Wielder, which in turn means that he would have the stategy and pure blood lust that War the horsemen holds. But what also War has is arrogance and pride, so this means that if we play to that there is little doubt that he would come. But there is the fact that he might see through this and see the trap. Ah! But he doesn’t know about the dwarves and the reclamation of Erebor, and I highly doubt that Famine does, otherwise he would have done something already, killed them before they even reached the mountain, let alone reclaimed it. As far as both of them know I am still futilely tracking them across Middle Earth, that is, if they even knew that. So, if we play this right, War would never suspect.” She abruptly turned to the dwarves and smiled wickedly.  
“Yes, he would.” She finished, and the dwarf with the strange hat stood and clapped his hands.  
“Wooh! Let’s do this!” The dwarves cheered with him, and Death just smiled fondly at the scene. It has been a long time since she has ever seen people as such. Light hearted, merry, and hopeful. Once the cheering died down, Death made her descion.  
“I’ll send a message to him now.” They looked confused at her words, but she reaches into her pocket and takes out the medium sized stone and clutches in her hand and wills a messenger to appear. The dog in front of her in small, and looks like a beagle, his pure white and made of shadow, and sits awaiting to be told a message. She kneels down in front of him.  
“Hey, I have message for you to take to War. Tell him this: Death wants to meet with him at the field in front of Erebor. Tell him that she must speak with her. Tell him to go to Erebor, be there in..” She looks to Thorin who mouths two weeks. “Two weeks. Okay? Go on Jasper, go on.” She gives his head a pat and he bounds of, and disappears. They stare after him, and then look at Death.  
“What was that?” Kili breaths, and Death grins.  
“That was a messenger. Each Wielder has one. It appears and corresponds with your spirit, they can take messages in between the Wielders.”  
“Woah.” Death merely nodded, and had to bite back her snickering at the boy, he was just adorable, like a little puppy.  
The room dispersed into quiet, idle conversation, for no more could be done till there was a reply from War. Death was sitting in a wooden chair next to the writing desk in the corner of the room, Gandalf’s previous spot, and watching the dwarves, not with any intent except curiosity, and though she hated to admit it, longing. It had been five hundred years since Death had a blood family that was when she was young, and had yet to even know of Wielders, or horsemen, or even the truth of reality. She lived peacefully in Erebor for ninety five years, she was happy, had a bright future, plans, and all that was taken away because then came her identity as a Wielder, and not just any Wielder. The Wielder of Death, leader of the Horsemen Court. Yes, she wasn’t very benevolent as a normal dwarf, she was a thief, and grew up on the rough streets, but she was happy, because she stole for her family. She stole for her widowed mother, little brother, and that mad up for everything in her mind.  
She had to leave Erebor after becoming a Wielder, and took her new spot in the world. She had ended up killing of Wielders, when they came too close to the Dark Side, and began to see the signs through the years. Soon, her old life in Erebor was nothing but a distant, beautiful dream. She thought she would never find a friend among the other Wielders, who were so cold. Then War came along. Yes, he wasn’t always so cold and evil, once upon a time Death and War were as close as brother and sister. This was why Death never noticed the growing evil in War. He helped her kill of Pestilence when he became too close to the Dark Side, and that was when the next one was discovered. The one that Death became so close to, closer than War and Death had ever been. This Pestilence was very young, only about twelve years old in man years, and Death became a motherly, or older sister figure to her when she began this life. Death has always felt an unending guilt towards Pestilence for taking away, not only her life that she could have had, but her childhood as well.  
Death let out a labored breath as the memories flooded, and the guilt haunted her eyes. Pestilence trusted Death, had faith in her, and loved her, and for that she was missing now. Pestilence hasn’t been seen for nearly fifty years now, she wasn’t dead, no Death would know if she was, she would feel it.  
“You okay?” A voice asked from her right. Death jumped slightly, and looked over at the dwarf, he definitely looked strange. He had a strange hat that stuck out on each side of his face and his mustache was congruent with that style. He looked kind and merry, he had a small smile on his face, and held a wooden pipe in his hand.  
“Yeah, fine.” She replied cooly and sat up, and leaned back in the chair. He snorted, which Death did not expect, normally people would just nod and leave, not really caring.  
“Sure,” He drawled. “I know that look. Regret, guilt, pain. Almost haunted.” He concluded. That was the perfect description, she thought ruefully, haunted. “But I won’ press ya’ for answers. Know how that feels,” His face darkened for a moment, before he schooled his features, but it was too late, because now she was curious. “Wouldn’t want to get on the bad side of Death.” He chuckled, and Death smirked. True, she remarked.  
“I would take a guess you have seen many a time before?” She asked, already knowing the answer. He nodded slowly, but kept his smile, but it was more pained. “Erebor?” She ventured.  
“Yes, thought I was not there, I know many who were, and they all have that look. Now and again.” She sighed. “But, enough with the sadness.” He proclaimed, and she smiled softly at him. “So, I have a questions, well, questions for you.”  
“Ask away.” She said, with a flourish of her hand.  
“You are a dwarf, well, are, were..?” He trailed of, uncertainly.  
“I am a dwarf.” She clarified with a larger smile.  
“Where are you from?”  
“Here. I am from Erebor.” And that is how to silence a room. Bofur gaped at her.  
“So.. you were here when Smaug came? But, you look so young, that was sixty years ago! You couldn't be more than ninety!” Death snickered at Bofur’s confusion.  
“I am much older than I look. Five hundred and ninety five actually. Oldest among the Wielders.” They just stared in confusion, awaiting for her to continue and explain how she was still alive. “When a person becomes a Wielder there live force is tied, well bonded, would be a better word, to their stone. Thus, making them immortal, unless the stone is destroyed, but then it molds itself back together for the new Wielder, tricky little thing…” She trailed of, and look far away, as if lost in memories which she was. “Anyway!” She declared, and sat up straight. “We have two weeks till War, may or may not appear at Erebor. Then we shall kill, or capture him for information, or die ourselves..That’s always a possibility….. But, what will you do until then?” They appeared to have no answer to that. Typical.  
“Rebuild. Plan. Train.” Thorin listed. Death nodded slowly, then stood.  
“I shall return the day before War should arrive.” She then began to walk out, but Thorin’s voice stopped her.  
“You could stay, if you wish.” Death turned. “Help us plan, after all we have little information regarding Wielders, and horsemen.”  
“True…” She thought for a moment. “I will return in the morning. I need to… check something out.” And with that she left the room, and found her way out of Erebor. 

The dwarves were confused, to say the least, they had never met someone like Death before, never knew of the Wielders existence until Gandalf decided to bring it up. And that was another thing! Why had he decided to tell them know and not before the quest had started! Wizards! It wasn’t long after Death had left that the dwarves decided to lay down to bed. Since being that they were still a little on edge, and Erebor hadn’t been in the best of conditions (that was an understatement) they all had made the decision to sleep in the same room. They gathered old and worn blankets around Erebor and scavenged around for pillows and mattresses and made “nests” for each one of them. The room they find appeared to be a dining hall of sorts and with a little bit of furniture moving they had a large space.  
The ‘Ri brothers had gathered their nests together. Ori lay on his back staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep, because his mind was running a mile a minute. His curiosity had been sparked by Death. This was whole another realm of knowledge that had barely even been touched. Wielders, Horsemen, sprits and talismans! This was the stuff of myths, and it was all real! Maybe he would get a chance to talk to her about this, would she even reveal more information about Wielders… He wouldn’t want to anger her by asking. Angering Death, like Bofur had said, would not be a good idea. If she was that old, he wondered, what kind of adventures and battles had she encountered? What were the other Wielders like? How many have there been? Why does the stone affect people like that? Were all Wielders Dwarves? How are Wielders choses? What if-  
“Ori, you should sleep.” Ori turned his head to see Nori staring at him with a disapproving look.  
“I can’t. I’m feeling a little restless.” Nori sighed.  
“You’re curiosity?” He grumbled, and Ori nodded.  
“Yes. There is just so much that we could learn from her!” He whispered excitedly.  
“I doubt that she would be willing to tell us everything about all of that Wielder stuff.” Nori plopped back down on his pillow, and stared at the ceiling with his brother. “Besides, what does it matter? All we need is the Arkenstone, not a book on Horsemen.” Ori huffed indignantly.  
“Yes, but remember? We need a Wielder for the Arkenstone, otherwise Thorin would be driven insane by Famine’s spirit.” Nori remained silent at that, and Ori knew he had made a point.  
“True, but that doesn’t mean we need a book on it. You should be careful around her. She’s dangerous.” Nori rolled over on his side, facing away from Ori. “Now go to sleep… Ori I’ll wake Dori.” Ori huffed one more time and closed his eyes, letting sleep take him. 

In the morning the Dwarves, had gathered in the dining hall, awaiting the return of Bilbo, Kili, and Balin who had gone to the gates to accept some food from Dale’s men in exchange for gold. They had sent those three because they were the most reasonable and friendly. The food though, was elven, and the dwarves and elves both agreed that direct trades were yet to be tolerated. The door opened and the three walked in, each with their hands full of baskets and bags. The set those on the table and the dwarves immediately began serving themselves. Luckily, the elves of Mirkwood had at least, some taste and it was not all just leaves. They settled in their seats and began eating, loudly and clumsily, drinking wine and eating bread, some meat and the occasional dwarf would eat the leaves.  
There was a loud snap in the room and the dwarves turned to the source of the sound and saw Death standing their rubbing her head.  
“Ow.. Forgot Erebor had magical borders, geez, good thing I’m Death, otherwise I’d be dead.” The dwarves were sitting there sputtering, and gaping till finally, always being the logical one, Balin spoke up.  
“Uh, lassie, how did you get in here?” Death looked, seemingly dazed.  
“Teleportation, don’t normally use it, but I forgot Erebor had magical borders for that type of thing. “ She stumbled to a seat and sighed.  
“You okay?” Kili asked, shaking with laughter.  
“Fine.” Death growled. Oin stood and walked over.  
“Here, let me see.” She pulled down her hood and there was blood dripping down from her hair. “Oh.” Was all Oin could manage. “What exactly happened?” He asked and began to search her black hair for the source.  
“Well, I think the protection barrier is supposed to cause the equivalent to being hit over to head with a war hammer, but I’m not sure.” The dwarves winced at that.  
“And how are you still conscious.” Death shrugged.  
“No idea.” Oin hummed in thought as he searched and then found it and winced. He pulled out a slave from his bag and rubbed it on.  
“Okay, you should be fine, but I’m not sure, because well. You’re unusual. But, if you feel faint, tell me.” Death nodded minutely. “And don’t do that again.”  
“Wasn’t planning on it.” The dwarves smiled at that. “Well, we know War won’t get in here easily, he’d probably be knocked out.” The dwarves made sounds of agreement, but it was all very awkward at the moment. Death caught Ori staring at her, and smiled. He was adorable, he reminded her of a chipmunk. Yep, so we have puppy, kitten, and chipmunk. He looked away immediately.  
“If you don’t mind me asking.” Balin began, and Death looked to him. “But where did you go last night?” Death smiled and reached into her bag and pulled out two books.  
“I got these.” The one on top was smaller, and the spine was worn, and a black color with red spirals swirling along it, the bottom one was the size of a large children’s book, and was navy blue and in better condition.  
“And what’re those?” Bofur inquired.  
“Books.” She answered.  
“Yep, she has a concussion.” Fili mumbled, causing the dwarves to laugh, as their laughter died down, Death glared at the kitten.  
“Listen, little kitten, these are books. Important ones to. And if I had a concussion, I would know.. Maybe.. I don’t know.. But anyway back to the books. They have a lot of information that will come in handy when going against War, and Famine.”  
“Kitten?” Kili inquired as Fili blushed like a mad man.  
“Yes, Puppy.”  
“Puppy?” Kili mimicked. Death just sighed.  
“Anyway, do any of you speak ancient khuzdul?” She looked around, and then, Bifur, she believed his name was spoke, and she didn’t understand a word. She hummed. “I’m guessing that’s ancient khuzul?” He nodded. “Great. Do you think you could translate something for me?” He nodded and signed in ishglimek.  
“Yes, what do you need translated?” She reached back into her bag and pulled out a yellowed piece of parchment that was folded up. The dwarf walked over and the others watched as she unfolded it to reveal a map… of Mordor.  
“Mordor?” Balin gasped. “Why would you need it translated?”  
“Because I found it in War’s previous home. Hidden in the floorboards.” Bifur looked at the ancient runes written upon it. She looked over at him and began signing.  
“He shall rise in the east  
With the red of blood  
And the black of night by his side  
Death shall die and rise again  
Plague shall spread  
And in their hands  
Dark and bright  
Shall die  
Spirits shall take form  
In the ashes of the plight”  
Death paled, which is saying something, considering she was already pale.


	3. Whatever Happened To The Simplicity of Life?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now the Shire's in danger! And War is on the move.  
> What does Thorin do now?  
> How will Death handle these new revelations?  
> And what the hell am I talking about?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided that I think Ori is adorable and that I want him to talk to Death. I also wanted to show a soft side of Death and give her a friend. Because Dwalin doesn't trust her yet, and Fili and Kili are just adorable little curious ones. Plus, Ori is an awesome character that I love.  
> What do you think, my lovelies?

“Damn it.” She mumbled and stood. “Where is Gandalf?” The dwarves didn’t answer. “Where is Gandalf?” She asked more firmly, and Gandalf burst into the room.  
“I am here.” He said as he stomped over to the map, he read the words and paled as well. “You know what this means?” Death nodded.   
“What does it mean?!” Dwalin barked. Death slowly raised her head to face the confused and frightened dwarves.   
“It means.. that things just went from bad to about as bad it can get.” She paused before elaborating, but before she could speak Thorin entered the room.   
“What is going on?” He barked, man dwarves and their barking, and Death was just about done with this interrupting so she said it as it was.   
“Famine and War are in league with the Dark Lord Sauron.” She spat out, and the dwarves gasped. She began pacing the room. “That means that they have orc forces backing them, which means that our plan is not going to go as we thought. No doubt that War, if he does arrive will bring with him orcs and be prepared for battle. Because he wants me dead, Death shall dies and rise again. He wants be dead, because he wants all the horsemen, which means that Pestilence is probably with them, but has she gone Dark Side is the question? No. She wouldn’t.” Death paused in her pacing, before shaking her head adamantly. “No.” She began walking again. “So that leads to the problem of what to do against the orcs. We have what? Sixteen people? How many orcs does he have? Mahl knows. We need more people. We need-“   
“Another horsemen.” Gandalf interrupted and Death spun around and faced him with confusion and anger in her eyes.   
“And where are we going to find another horsemen?”  
“There are ways to track one. You know that.”  
“I cannot track War, Famine or Pestilence. Famine and War have blocks on them, and now I know how that happened. Sauron put them up. But… you can.” Gandalf nodded slowly with a glint in his eye that spoke of mischief and power.   
“I can. “  
“But what then?” She barked. “Hunt down War, who just might have an army of orcs with him? Or here’s a bright idea! Famine!” She suggested sarcastically. “Oooh! Let’s have a nice jolly walk to our deaths! Let’s just go confront the bastard! Huh?! Great! Let’s do it every one!” Everyone was in shock, it was now definite that the stress was getting to her.   
“That is why we need to be stealthy. While we all do not have the means to kill War, you do. And he can be knocked out. And if I am right, you will be fainting soon.” Death glanced quizzically at Gandalf, and felt a wave of fatigue wash over her, she held her head, and tried to fight it off. She sat down in a chair and gestured for Gandalf to keep going as she supported her head with her hands. “I can track him down, and then we can knock War our, get our second horsemen, then we have that advantage, and begin planning on how to get to Famine, because there is no doubt that Famine is well protected and with an army of orcs. I suspect War is more of a second in command than anything. Famine is the third horsemen, while War is the second. He is more dangerous and began this whole ordeal.” Death nodded, but it caused a blast of pain to go through her head, and she winced. “She teleported into Erebor didn’t she?” He asked the dwarves, who nodded. Gandalf chuckled, and looked to Dwalin. “She’s going to pass out any moment now, could you carry her to a place where she can lay down?” Dwalin begrudgingly nodded, just as Death stood and tried to walk and protest but swayed and fell, Dwalin caught her just in time. “I’m surprised she lasted this long.” Dwalin huffed and carried her bridal style to where the dwarves were camped out in the room now known as “The Pile” because honestly it looked like a giant pile of blankets, pillows, and mattresses. He looked around the room and shrugged then set her down on his own bed. Oin bustled over with his medicine back and put some more of the salve on the bloodied wound and tried to clean the blood out of her ebony hair.   
By Thorin’s instruction, Dwalin was told to watch over her until she woke. Why him? Why? He was no healer, why not Oin? Or perhaps somebody more gentler, like Ori, or maybe someone more friendly, like Kili, Fili, or Balin? But no, he was stuck waiting for her to wake up. He was leaning against the wall in the large stone room with his arms crossed across his chest. He took this moment to really look at her, could he trust her? She was Death, well she had Death’s spirit in her.  
Dwalin was incredibly protective of the Company, especially Thorin, the Princes and his brother. He has lost a lot in his life, and he wasn’t about to lose anyone else. His loyalty to Thorin was unbreakable, his familial love for his brother was strong, and Dwalin didn’t know what he would do without the Princes. So having Death here was unnerving and concerning. He wasn’t sure what to think of her, and he had to admit that if she had some sort of heinous plan for them, then she was a damn good actor.   
Death shifted in her sleep and went to sit up.  
“You shouldn’t stand.” She paused and looked over at the warrior. “Not good for your head.” She huffed and did so anyway. Dwalin, knowing full well what it’s like to have a concussion walked over and steadied her as she began to sway. She leaned heavily on him, and he huffed. “Like I said. You shouldn’t stand.” She began to release some of the weight she was putting on him, and stood on her own, thought Dwalin was ready to catch her.   
“No, no, I’m fine. I can stand.” Sure, just wait till you walk. He thought with a smirk. She went to walk and stumbled. He caught her and lifted her by her arm. She stood and tied to walk again.   
“I got it. I got it.” She mumbled and stumbled again, straight into Dwalin’s arms. He grabbed her, and walked her back to the bed and sat her down.   
“Are you always this infuriating?” He grumbled, and when she tried to sit again, he pushed her back down. “Stay.” He commanded.   
“No.” She replied and sat back up, but he pushed her back down and sat down on her legs. “Hey!” She protested, and tried to shake him of, but that did nothing, because he was taller, and heavier than her. “You know you’re acting like a dwarfling!” She barked. And he smirked at her.   
“Actually, you are. You need to rest of the concussion and let yourself heal, but you can’t even stay still.” She glared at him, and if he hadn’t spent his life facing Thorin’s glares, he probably would have moved, and looked away. She opened her mouth to protest, but he beat her to it. “And we need you to be healthy and be able to at least walk so we can deal with Famine and War, as well as Sauron.” Death couldn’t deny that and sighed.   
“You’re right.”  
“That I am.” He stood and sat down on the bed next to hers.   
“How long have I been out?” She asked.  
“About an hour.” She nodded, feeling a tad awkward. “Where are the others?”  
“Drawing room… I should go tell them you’re up.” He heaved himself up and walked to the door. “Stay, and don’t move.” He said, once he reached the door. She nodded, and he left the room.   
In about five minutes Dwalin returned, with the Company and Gandalf in tow.   
“I am guessing you forgot about the War Hammer protection?” Gandalf ventured with a smirk.   
“No, I enjoy being hit on the head with war hammers. Especially magical ones.” Death snapped. Gandalf laughed at her endeavor. “But, regarding the map, and what it says…” She said gesturing to Thorin to speak.   
“We have decided that we will go with Gandalf’s plan and send out a stealth party to track War down and end him. Giving us the advantage of having another horsemen, once we find him or her. We just need to decide on who will go.” There was an exchange of glances around the room.   
“Well, Gandalf and I must go. And we should not have too many people. And a few must stay in Erebor.” She looked to Thorin who nodded. Thorin turned to the Company and Dwalin, and looked around his mind racing.   
Thorin was worried. He did not want to put anyone in harm’s way, but he had too. He looked around and spotted Nori. He would be helpful, no doubt on this mission, what with his past and incredible sneaking and spying abilities. Dwalin, because he was an excellent warrior, and loyal to a fault. Bofur would be a help because Dwalin, and Nori would be all business and honestly, were quite the pessimists. His eyes landed on his nephews, and he saw the determination in their gazes and knew there would be no stopping them from going. He sighed, they are excellent warriors, some of the best.   
“Okay. I have made my decision.” He paused. “Nori, Dwalin, Bofur, Fili, Kili, and myself will join Gandalf and Death on this mission. Balin, I ask you to lead in my stead, and the rest of you to assist him and try to keep the peace.” Whatever peace there is, he thought ruefully. Gandalf sauntered over to Death, who didn’t move and looked dazed, well she was just hit with a war hammer. He laid his hand on her head, and there was a soft glow and she blinked rapidly as he withdrew.   
“That should help.” He commented and she stood with no problem, and walked a few paces.   
“You could have done that the entire time?” She asked. He nodded and chuckled. “Thanks.” She growled.   
“Your welcome.” He replied.   
“Wizards.” She grumbled, then brightened. “So, where is he?” She asked, turning back to Gandalf, who turned grim.   
“The Old Forest, he seems to be travelling west.” The Shire. Death thought.   
“What? But that would lead him to the Shire, what business would he have there?”   
“Search for it. A feeling.” Gandalf instructed her. It? What?... Oh. She took a deep breath and searched for signs of magic. There was Gandalf. Herself. Erebor’s protection barrier, and… No. No.  
“No. No. No. No. No. How is that even possible? Where?” She looked around the room, where was it? Her eyes landed and Bilbo. It was as if someone had turned the lights of, not on, off. “Damn.” She took a step towards Bilbo. “How?” Was all she asked, and there was worry, and grief etched across her face. This poor, innocent, little hobbit doesn’t realize what he’s gotten himself into.   
“W-what?’ He stuttered. “What’s going on? What do I have to do with this?”   
“Did you find a ring? A golden ring?” She asked him, not unkindly.   
“A ring? What?”   
“A golden ring.”  
“Why are you asking this?” He was getting more panicked with each question.   
“A simple golden ring. Perhaps from a creature called Gollum.”  
“Why? How? What are you getting at?”  
“The ring. Do you have it?”  
“Why does it matter?”  
“Bilbo, it is dangerous.”  
“How?”  
“Do you have it?”  
“W-what?”  
“Does anyone else know?”  
“Who?”  
“Bilbo. Do. You. Have. The. Ring?” She practically hissed, and Bilbo caved.   
“I found a golden ring in the Goblin Caves. A creature called Gollum had it. Why does it matter?” He explained. And Death nearly sighed.   
“Shit.” Was all she said.   
“What ring? Why does it matter? What is so dangerous about it?” Thorin barked. Death walked away from him and stared at the wall. As if things couldn’t get worse. The dwarves were yelling at each other. She knew that. Gandalf was just as silent as her. Because now, the Ring of Power was in the possession of an innocent Halfling. Death rounded on the yelling dwarves.   
“QUIET!” They all silenced, though they were not happy. “The ring, is the most dangerous object in all of Middle Earth.” She didn’t want to say the next six words, because then, it would mean they were true, and there was nothing you could do to unsay it, or forget it. “It is the Ring of Power.” Thorin turned to Bilbo and embraced him, it was not a happy embrace, but one filled with sadness, and disbelief.   
“Bilbo..” He said, though his voice was muffled by his hair. Bilbo returned the embrace after a moment. Thorin released him after a few moments. His eyes were wet with unshed tears. Death took a few steps away from the Halfling, though only Gandalf noticed, and he was now concerned for her.   
“We must keep Bilbo safe, they cannot know of the location of the true location of the Ring. Erebor’s protection charms must be blocking the location, so that is why War is moving to the Shire, but how he knows of Bilbo, I cannot say. We seven shall find him, end him and return to Erebor. We must be swift, and unseen.” Gandalf eyes seemed to have aged much in this past moments, Death was eerily quiet. The pull of the Ring of nearly suffocating, her fists were clenched and her knuckles were white.   
“We need to leave as soon as possible.” She voiced, and her voice was hoarse, full of pain, and longing. Thorin nodded in agreement, but even he was curious about this change.   
“Tomorrow, at first light.” He wrapped in arm around Bilbo’s shoulders. “In the meantime, everyone prepare for the journey. We’ll need ponies, and more supplies.” Fili, Kili, and Bofur volunteered to go to Dale to gather what was needed and ask the elves. Death left the room as soon as she could and rushed down the halls to the ramparts and held onto them, cursing herself. Stupid Ring. Stupid Famine. Stupid War. Stupid Sauron. Stupid Mordor. Everythings so stupid! She kicked the stone, and immediately regretted it. She hissed, and looked down at her boots. They were not dwarven made, so they did not have reinforced toes, or heels. They were brown leather boots that reached her knees. Death sighed and tried not to put a whole lot of weight on her now sore foot. She had to admit, she was rather rash and not very wise. But, she did have her moments. She heard the soft scuffling of boots and looked over to see Ori, holding her books. She smiled at him, and he gave a weak smile back, she beckoned him over and he walked hesitantly towards her.   
“I-I thought I’d bring these to you.” He said in rush and passed them to her. She accepted them, he looked to be about to say something, but stopped.   
“I don’t bite.” She told him, soothingly. He flushed pink and looked at her. They stood about the same height, though she was taller than him by about an inch.   
“I was wondering if you could tell me about Wielders.” It was a question, Death knew that, and she couldn’t help but smile at him, because she was proud to be a Wielder, as painful an existence as she had, she was proud to at least be something.   
“Yes, in fact.” She paused before passing him the large blue book. “You can keep this. It is a book I have had for awhile, and have written a little in. It was originally written by a friend of a Wielder of Death. I get the feeling you are a scholar of some sort.” He held the book almost reverently. “And you can ask me any questions ya’ like.”   
“Y-you’re sure, I mean you don’t have to-“  
“Think nothing of it. It is no burden.” Ori walked over to the wall and sat down, Death did the same and Ori opened the book. There was sharp hand writing on the first page that read: “Wielders, Written By: Destiel, A Wielder of Death.”  
“An elf?” Ori inquired, not rudely, but curiously.   
“Yes, the race of a Wielder cycles. It moves from Elf, Hobbit, Man, Dwarf.” She explained and gazed at the stars that were beginning to dot the sky, she must have been on the ramparts longer than she thought. All day? Geez. No wonder somebody came looking for her.   
“What about War?” He asked, as he turned the page and ran a hand over the drawings of the stones and handwriting explaining the Wielders’ origin. “What race is he?”  
“War at the moment is of the Race of Men, so he will be a-“  
“Dwarf.” Ori breathed, looking up, at her again. “Can you tell? Who the next Wielder will be?”  
“No. Though some say there are ways to. I have never read nor seen how.” Ori nodded, and began to read again, though Death saw Ori’s brow furrow and looked to Death again.   
“What about the others? What are they?”  
“Well, Pestilence is a Dwarf, and Famine is a man like War. So once this is all over we will have all dwarf Wielders.”   
“That’ll be interesting.” Death looked over at Ori with barely contained laughter, but once she saw the look on Ori’s face they both laughed.   
“Yes. It will be.” Death agreed. “Night has fallen. We best retreat inside.” She stands, Ori nods and follows his example.   
“Thank you. For the book, and company.” He smiles shyly. They begin to walk down the halls, side by side.   
“You are welcome, and thank you for your company as well.” She replies. They are soon joined by Dori, and his brother Nori.   
“Ori!” The silver haired dwarf exclaims. “There you are!” Death steps to the side to allow the brothers to flank Ori protectively. Nori stood closest to Death, and seemed less put off by her than Dori. His is quite the curious dwarf.   
“What’cha got there Ori?” Nori asks his brother, gesturing to the blue book.   
“It’s a book about Wielders. Death’s given it to me, to learn about them, and her.” He explains cheerfully.   
Death quite like Ori, he was adorable, and reminded her of Pestilence, though he was younger than her. Nori hummed in thought, while Dori looked skeptical. Death had to bite back a growl, she was just being nice!  
They arrived at ‘The Pile’ and Kili immediately ran over to Death and was practically bouncing with excitement. What got him so riled up?  
“Death!” He cried and stood in front of her.   
“Yes, Puppy?” She drawled. He frowned slightly at the nickname, but brightened up.  
“We have a place for you to sleep.” He took her arm and dragged her over to a nest like bed, and showed it to her with a flourish.   
“Thank you, Puppy.” She said in response and he plopped down on the one next her, she followed his lead and sat down. Of course. Fili walked over with a smile, and sat down next to Kili, both of them staring at her. She huffed and stared back.   
“So, Death, ready for tomorrow?” He asked, trying to strike up conversation.  
“Yes. What about you Kitten?” He, like his brother, frowned at the nickname.  
“Uh, yeah, I’m ready. “ Fili replied. Death nodded in reply, not long after that Thorin came stomping around with the grace of a bison and told everyone to get some sleep.


	4. The House That Built Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death decides to visit her old home in Erebor, and comforts Bilbo and Bofur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly filler, but I felt that it would be good to have it in the story. And I love Ori, he's adorable, and Bofur too.  
> Oh, yeah, and we have some Bofur/Nori stuff beginning to develop. Yeah!

Sleep did not come easy for Nori that night. He was a spy, a thief, some would call him. But this was entirely different, this wasn’t a dragon they were facing, nor orcs, trolls or goblins. This was a person that was impossible for him to kill. Unless of course he somehow managed to get a hold of their stone, which was not even likely, even for someone with his talents. And now the Ring of Power is involved in this? And Mordor? Sauron? Armies of Orcs? This was the stuff of legends, not something he ever expected to be roped into. He sat up and looked around, everyone else seemed to be asleep. Dwalin was, though that was to be expected he has faced armies of orcs, and has learned how to get over this type of thing. Or maybe he was dealing with it in a different way. Thorin  looked to be asleep, as well as Fili, Kili, and Gandalf. He looked over to a few beds next to him and Bofur was not asleep, in fact he was staring directly at him. He frowned at him, in a worrisome fashion and beckoned him over. Nori stood and walked over, being mindful of not disturbing his sleeping companions.

“You okay?” Bofur whispered as he sat down next to him.

“Yeah, just restless. You?” He replied simply, and Bofur raised an eyebrow, not believing him. Which he was right to do so.

“Well, I’m worried.” He explained, and Nori looked over at him. Ever the honest man.

“Why?”

“We ‘ave gotten r’selves in quite the predicament. Orcs. Sauron. Goblins. The Ring. Horsemen. This is more than we have ever faced. Well, minus the orcs and goblins.” Nori listened to Bofur as he spoke, and agreed with him all the way.

“I feel the same way, and-“ He cut himself of before he could finish that sentence and looked over at his brothers. Bofur did the same with Bombur and his cousin, Bifur.

“Yeah.” Bofur said and nodded in agreement with the unsaid words that lingered in the air. They heard the slight rustling near them and looked to the source and saw Death walking out of the room. She left her bag on her bed, so she couldn’t be leaving. They looked at each other and Nori stood as the door closed behind her, and began to follow. Bofur stood and began running, and dodging sleeping forms, trying to be silent.

“Nori! Are you sure-“He whispered at him as they entered the hallway, and closed the door silently.

“Curiosity killed the cat, Bofur, not the dwarf.” Nori interrupted him with a wicked grin and followed Death as she turned the corner, going deep into the mountain. They ran, as quietly as possible after her. They followed her down the stairs and into a residential part of the mountain. There were pieces of stone rubble scattered across the floor, though it seemed that this part wasn't all that bad. The walls were grey stone and plain, probably for the lower class residents, Nori recognized this part, because he had ventured here before, when he was young. Bofur, though had never lived in Erebor, though he was alive during the dragon attack. She wandered past small houses and they followed hiding in the shadows, she stopped at one door, and sighed, loudly. She opened the plain wooden door and walked in.

Bofur and Nori exchanged glances, wondering what she was doing. They glanced around, seeing if she was out yet, and then walked forward and looked inside. She had left the door open, and you could see very dusty and old wooden furniture. There was a wooden table in the entry way and she stood there with a picture frame in hands, and was wiping of the many layers of dust. She looked at it for a moment and set it down, then continued through the house. Her shoulders were hunched over slightly, as if in sadness. There was a small couch and a bear skin rug in the center. Nori was about to walk in, but Bofur stopped him.

“We shouldn’t.” He whispered.

Death walked through the halls of the house she used to live in. She was surprised that they hadn't touched it after she left, and her mother and little brother died. It was dusty, yes, but other than that everything was the same. She moved through the stone halls and found her and Erinos’s bedroom. Erinos was her little brother, she was his senior by two years, her bed was in the left corner, the red comforter was still bunched up at the bottom as she left it, and her brother’s was neatly made up with a blue comforter. There was chest in between the two beds, and she walked over and opened it. There old toys were piled in. Their toy soldiers, and wooden swords were in there. She picked up the little captain of the guard figure. She smiled softly, remembering how he would always insist on playing him, while she would be an orc or thief.

She put him back and reached under her mattress and pulled out a journal she wrote in during her teen years, the pages were brittle. Well, it has been five hundred years since she has been here. She opened the book and read the silly passages she wrote when she was about fifty, about the ‘oh so handsome Buff’. She sighed at her silliness and raging hormones, and put it back, not wanting to ruin it. She stood and went to her brother’s bed and looked under the bed and found a little box and opened it, and there was a necklace with little diamonds on little silver beads. He had saved up for nearly five years, he was going to give it to a dwarrow-dam he wanted to court, her name was Anita, but he never got the chance, he fell ill like his mother. Death, though she wasn’t known as that then, spent years trying to keep them healthy, but this illness slowly killed them. She stared down at the jewelry and put it back, there was even a little note on it. “To Anita: The Love of My Life.” She put it back and walked out, back down the hallways and out the door, and sat on the steps, after closing it.

“Did you live there?” A voice asked, she turned to the sound and saw Nori and Bofur standing there. She realized that it was Bofur who asked.

“Yes, a long time ago. Surprised they didn’t touch it.”  She replied quietly. They walked over and sat down on either side of her and she didn’t mind. It was silent for a few moments.

“Do you ever miss that life?” Nori asked her, and Death had to think for a moment. Yes, she was proud to be a Wielder, but if she had a choice would she pick to live that life. Even if she was a thief, and poor, but she had her mother, her brother, and once upon a time, a father.

“Yes. I do.” It was silent for a minute, and then Death stood. “Ya’ know, you both should get some sleep. You’ll need it.” They stood as well, and raised their eyebrows.

“So d’you lassie.” Bofur countered.

“I’ll survive. Not my first sleepless night. But, wait, hold on. What are you doing here?” She questioned, realizing that it was not normal to be in an abandoned neighborhood in Erebor.

“Uh, well. We, uh, might have followed you.” Bofur stuttered, and Death could only smile, Bofur seemed relieved she wasn’t angry.

“Oh. Okay. Makes sense. Did I wake you?” She asked, though she guessed not.

“No, we were already up. Talking, about tomorrow, and the mission.” Death nodded, at Bofur’s words. Makes sense.

“Yeah, it is quite the feat we’re attempting.” She agrees. “I was actually curious as to what your strengths are, you know like stealth, speed, archery?” She lists. They nodded, Nori smiled wickedly, but Bofur shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, I rely more on speed and stealth in fighting, and-“ He held up a bracelet she was wearing, it was made of pearls and little diamonds. She chuckled and reached into her pocket and pulled out a ring, that belonged to him. He gaped and she snickered. Bofur groaned.

“Now we’ve got two?” They all laughed at that, and Nori and Death traded their possessions back.

“Bofur? What about you?” Death asked him with a smile.

“Well, uh, I have some talent with a mattock. Though, I am not the best fighter. Honestly, I’m not sure why Thorin chose me.” He shifted uncomfortably. And Death looked at him with something akin to pity and exasperation.

“Bofur, you know when it comes to quests like this, fighting skills aren’t always what’s important. If there’s one thing I’ve learned through the years its that a fight is futile if there is no hope, or ambition for that matter.” He didn’t look convinced, so she continued. “Ori told me about you’re quest, and from what I heard you were always able to brighten people up.” He looked up. “Very few people can do that. Especially in times that that. Plus, I have not seen you fight, but unless you unusually lucky like Bilbo, you must be a pretty good fighter to have survived the journey.” Bofur smiled at Death.

“Thank you, Death. For your kind words.” Bofur and Nori exchanged looks and nodded. “I guess we should go to bed now. See you in the morning?” Death nodded and they walked back to ‘The Pile’ together.

Death lingered at her old home for awhile, but soon decided to go to the ramparts again.

When she arrived she saw a hobbit standing there, his head barley reached over the stone gate and he appeared to be deep in thought. He heard her approach and looked over. Worry, fear, and hope was all seen in his look.

“Hello, Death.” He greeted her and she walked over to stand beside him.

“Hello Master Baggins.” She replied softly. “Much has happened in the last day, particularly to you. How are you faring?” She truly wanted to know, this hobbit has been given the most powerful object in Middle Earth. She could feel the power radiating off of the ring, and fought hard to resist the pull, she was going to talk to this hobbit and make sure he was okay, and nothing, not even the Ring of Power was going to stop her. She may be Death, but she was not heartless.

“Truthfully?” He asked, and she nodded. “Not well. How can I, a mere hobbit, be strong enough to carry this Ring? I’m not sturdy like dwarves, wise like the elves, passionate like men, or even powerful like you and the wizards. I’m just a hobbit.”

“Just a hobbit?” Death mimicked, amused. “It was just a hobbit that left his home to go on a crazy adventure, that some would call suicidal, and it was just a hobbit who faced three trolls to save his friends from being eaten, and was it also just a hobbit that stole the keys from guards of the Woodland Realm, and escaped via barrel, and are you also telling me that it was just a hobbit that confronted a fire drake. Master Baggins, I have not even done such a feat as to face a dragon, and you actually held a conversation with one. You are most certainly not just a hobbit.” He looked at her, stunned.

“How did you know all that?" He breathed.

“Ori told me the story of your journey.” Bilbo nodded and gave a breathy laugh. They were silent for a moment, and Death saw Bilbo with his hand in his pocket, where she believed the Ring to be. She took a deep breath and out, trying to keep control. He paused and removed his hand.

“But this is beyond a dragon. Beyond anything I have faced. This is Sauron, and magic, and powerful rings, armies of orcs, and I don’t think I am strong enough for this.” Death thought for a moment, and looked out at the horizon where the first light of day was beginning to peek from behind the mountains

“Master Baggins, I understand that you think that, but there is something I have learned.” He turned to her. “And its that when push comes to shove, you only taste what you’re made of. So, if the world thinks that you are strong enough to be a Ring Bearer, then you are. The only matter is finding where your strength is.” He cocked his head at her.

“Where my strength is?”

“Yes. With yourself, with family, with friends, with a lover. It could be with anyone, anything, or in many places.”

“Where is yours?” Death hummed in thought.

“With the prospect of the future, for now, it could change.” They stood there for a moment, and then Bilbo broke the silence.

“You are incredibly wise Death.” Death chuckled at that.

“I have been told the exact opposite, but thank you Master Baggins.”

“Please, call me Bilbo.”

“Okay, Bilbo.” She paused and then sighed. “We should go wake them.” And she turned and there they were, watching them. That’s not creepy at all.

“That was beautiful.” Bofur breathed, and wiped away a fake tear, Death turned and looked at the sun, and then back at him. “What you said.” He clarified. Death and Bilbo nodded in disbelief.

“Okay. Well. Everyone ready?” Death asked them.

“Yes, we have ponies from Dale, and we have our supplies.” All the dwarves, hobbit, and wizard walked down to the gates of Erebor, after grabbing their packs from ‘The Pile.’ There were six ponies, a horse and Mara there. They were all wished farewells. The ‘Ri brothers were very reluctant to part, and Dori gave Nori an embrace that nearly made him turn blue. Balin and Dwalin knocked foreheads and tried to remain calm, but Death could see the emotion lingering behind it all. Bofur got heart melting embraces from both his brother and cousin, and Bilbo hugged all of them, but Thorin and Bilbo’s hug lasted longer. Death glanced over at them, and they were kissing passionately, she had to resist the urge to whistle. She heard someone near her and looked over and saw the adorable little chipmunk.

“Good luck, Death.” Ori said to her with a smile.

“Thank you, Ori. Nori is your brother right?” She asked. He nodded solemnly. She smiled at him, and whispered: “I will protect him as best I can. Though I cannot guarantee it, I will do everything in my power to bring him home to you. All of the dwarves, actually.” He brightened a little.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” And with that the little chipmunk hugged her, he released her, leaving her stunned. He was stronger than he looked.

“Your welcome.” She replied. The dwarves, Gandalf and her bid everyone one last farewell and they mounted their ponies, and left Erebor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Huh? Any ideas for their journey? Do you want some stuff for what goes in Erebor while they're away? Maybe a Legolas relationship? Or Bard?


	5. Traveling With Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They begin their journey, through Dale, across the lake, through Mirkwood and to the mountain passages. Death grows closer with the dwarves, and ends up developing close friendships, something she hasn't had in a long time. They make it to the pass through the Misty Mountains, and trouble begins to brew

Death learned something while travelling while travelling with the dwarves. That they were not silent when they travelled. Not. At. All. In fact, they were so loud that she wondered how they survived the quest. The only remotely quiet dwarves were Thorin and Nori. She would say Dwalin, but the fact was that when he did speak he was like a thunder storm.

The first few days of travel were slow. They went through Dale, took a barge across the Lake and ended up at the gate to Mirkwood.

“How are we going to pass through? The elves will capture us, won’t they?” Kili asked Thorin as they were about to enter.

“If they try to, we threaten them!” Death announced, and they all stared at her like she just said to light the forest on fire.

“That’ll do wonders for the peace!” Nori grumbled.

“Alright fine, I’ll threaten them. Technically I am not a citizen of Erebor, so I don’t answer to Thorin, so they cannot hold him accountable for anything I say or do.” They cantered into the forest, still discussing what to do if the elves try to capture them. Which wasn’t very smart considering that the elves would hear them. But, through the day they heard nothing, saw nothing, not even a spider.

That night, when they all made camp, Death decided to ask the meddling wizard a question.

“Gandalf?” She called to him from her spot near the fire in between Nori and Dwalin (Because man can those two bicker.)

“Hmm?”

“Why have the elves not appeared? They are so fiercly protective of their kingdom?” Gandalf looked over at her, amused.

“Because of you of course.” It sounded like an accusation when he said it, she raised her eyebrows.

“Me? What did I do?” The dwarves listened as the conversation went.

“They know who you are, and have made the decision not to cross you.” Gandalf clarified, and blew a smoke ring from his now lite pipe.

“So, they fear me?” A smirk was now spreading across her face, and Bofur was biting back a laugh. Gandalf nodded in reply. “That’s great!” She laughed out, and the dwarves were smiling.

“Arrogant dwarf.” Gandalf muttered under his breath.

“I heard that.” Death blurted. “And I am not arrogant.” The dwarves shot her accusing glances. “Okay maybe a little.” They narrowed their eyes. “I’m not going beyond that.” She declared, and they chuckled.

They made it out of the forest in two more days. (Much to everyone’s relief) Kili asked if they would stay with Beorn again, but Gandalf quickly shot that down.

“Why not?” He asked.

“Because she’s with us.” Gandalf grumbled. They all looked to her from their ponies.

“I didn’t do anything! It’s just because I have Death’s spirit, and he doesn’t like that.” They sighed and continued on

One day while travelling, as they were getting closer to the Misty Mountains, Death got bored and remembered the night before they left Erebor. She rode up near Nori, and saw he had a money bag on his belt. She rode up next to him in the back of their group, and decided to strike up conversation.

“Hey Nori.” She greeted him brightly.

“Hi Death.” He replied gruffly.

“How’s it goin’?” She inquired.

“Fine. What about you?”

“Well, I was just wondering.” And a brillent idea struck me like a brick to the head. “What did you say?” I asked loudly, so that a certain person could hear. “You think Dwalin could be taken down by a billy goat?” Nori looked over at me, murderously, and he looked towards Dwalin. Dwalin was glaring at him, if looks could kill, then that would have been the endless torturous, slow painful, kill look.

“Oh but let’s not even begin, with what you said, Death! How exactly did you phrase it, that Thorin reminded you of a moody badger?” She gaped at him and he grinned back. Now, Thorin was glaring at her.

“No, I said moody bad ass, not moody badger.” There was an exchange of glances and then laughter.

“Moody- bad- ass?” Kili said between laughs.  While Nori was distracted, Death with an experienced hand snatched the coin purse and slid it into her bag.

“Hey, it’s the best I could think of. Not to mention it’s true.” Death countered, and she thought she could see a small smile on Thorin’s lips. But it must have been her imagination, she has been called a nutter, more than once.

When they made camp that night, Death saw Nori put his bedroll down beneath a tree, and saw her opportunity to return the coin purse. She took a small, thin piece of rope and tied it around the cinch of it and then tied the other end to the branch so it dangled over his bed roll.

She joined the group of dwarves in the circle and sat down, at her usual spot between Dwalin and Nori. Bofur offered her some stew, which she accepted gratefully, the only one not in their circle was Gandald. Thorin seemed to be more at ease with the group since the reclamation of Erebor, and Death was happy to be able to call him a friend. In fact she was happy to have friends period. Pestilence was more of her daughter than anything, because of the huge age difference, and since she went missing, Death has felt incredibly lonely.

“Nori?” Kili asked slowly, while looked behind him. “Is that you’re coin purse?” Death was biting her lip to prevent herself from laughing. Nori looked behind him, and saw it, he got up and grabbed it, then sat back down. They were looking at him curiously, and Death feigned disbelief. He looked to Death, and grinned.

“It’s on.” He declared, and Bofur groaned.

“I was afraid this would happen.” He drawled.

“What?” Fili and Kili asked in sync. Death chuckled, and looked at Nori.

“This is going to be easy.”

“What?” They asked again.

“Really? You think so? Ask Dwalin, I am quite good.” She scoffed.

“What are you talking about?” Fili asked with a groan. Dwalin looked at Death with raised eyebrows.

“No. You aren’t-“

“Yes.” She said with a nod. “I was. Just for fun now though.” He sighed.

“Now there’s two!” He drawled.

“That’s what I said.” Bofur commented with a nod.

“Wait,” Fili blurted. “You were a thief?”

“I prefer the term liberator.” Nori snickered at that.

“Was this when you lived in Erebor?” Thorin asked, speaking for the first time.

“Some. But I moved around though, after leaving. Didn’t have much work.” She replied simply.

“Why _did_ you leave Erebor?” Kili asked. Death sighed.

“There were a couple reasons. One, I became a Wielder and had to take my place as the leader of the horsemen court. Me being Death and everything. And two, my mother and little brother both died from a horrible illness. It had been plaguing them for years. It was hard staying there, the grief was fresh. So I left, and… I guess I just never returned.” They were silent at that, but Bofur had a follow up question.

“What about your father?”

“He died in a mine accident.”

“He was a miner?”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t always one.”

“What was he before?”

“He was of a noble family, and was going to be part of the council to the King, that was what his father was.”

“What happened?” Kili asked quietly.

“His family disowned him.” They gasped, and even Gandalf was listening now.

“Why would they do that?” Bofur breathed.

“He fell in love with my mother, who was from a very poor family. His family prided themselves on their noble blood, and refused to allow him to marry. But he did so anyway, in secret, and my mother became pregnant. When they found out, they were so enraged that they disowned him. Said he had tainted blood now.” The dwarves couldn’t believe that, that was horrible, and so medieval, now they were not nearly as concerned with that. Thorin was marrying a hobbit!

“That’s is… horrible.” Kili searched for the word, and Death shrugged sadly.

“They ended up regretting their actions once they heard of his death.” She says with a sigh. She waits a few moments before blurting: “Enough sadness. How are things going in the realm of Puppy and Kitten?” Fili and Kili blush at their nicknames.

“U-uh fine. Just fine.” Fili stutters.

“Good.”

The next few days of travel are easy, and Death found that Nori wasn’t kidding when he said it was on. Each night she would find something different on her bed roll. A few days she found herself idly talking to Dwalin. Mostly about the journey, she found she enjoyed talking to him, despite his gruffness and he seemed to enjoy talking to her.

Sadly, though the easy travel ended with the mountain passes. They found themselves clinging to the rock, Death was in between Nori and Dwalin once more, them having become her closest friends. In the back, Gandalf brought up the rear, then Bofur, Nori, Death, Dwalin, Fili, Kili, and Thorin was leading. It was raining hard, and up here where the wind blew fiercly it felt like tiny needles piercing her skin.

“Why is it that every time we go through these passes it is raining?!” Kili hollered.

“Look on the bright side! There’s no lightning!” Death yelled back, and just then, a bolt of lightning lit up the sky. The dwarves groaned and cursed.

“Thanks Death!” Nori grumbled.

“No problem.” She replied cheekily. She looked out from under her hood and looked around the mountain gap she and her companions were in.  It was raining hard, and everything was blurred by the cascading water. You could barely make out the other side of the mountain. A rumbling sound broke through the air, everyone froze.

“Was that-?” Kili began, but was cut of by the unmistakable sound of goblin screeches.

“Run!” Gandalf shouted forward and everyone began scuttling as fast as possible along the mountain side, it was far too thin of a rock to run. The goblin screeches and screams could be heard, but none except Gandalf could see them, _can he not just blast them away?_

Nori couldn't help but groan at the sound of the goblin screeches. Why is it that every time they go  _anywhere,_ and he meant anywhere,  something always go wrong? They are chased by goblins, or get caught in a thunder battle. Hell, the last time Nori went to Dale, he was chased by a bunch of men. Well, that technically was his fault... Anyway, back to running for his life from goblins. There was an abrupt stop, and he nearly crashed into Death, but she grabbed him by his shoulder and righted him. 

"The path stops!" Just like in Mirkwood. Great. He peaked around Death and saw that the rock path they were following dropped of, and plummeted down into darkness. The goblin screeches were getting closer and they had no where to go.

"Wizard! Is there anything you can do?" Thorin shouted to the end of the line. Gandalf blanched. Nori saw Death stiffen as they got closer, she looked behind her, and groaned frustratedly. Nori heard a loud screech from above, and looked up, only to get a face full of goblin. He grabbed it by its neck and flipped it over, somehow it dropped dead before he could wack it or stab he looked up, and saw Death smirking. Wow. But, there wasn't anytime for anymore reaction than that, because soon they were surrounded by nearly a hundred goblins, more coming as they fought.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, yes it is mostly filler, and yes it is not the best. I really wanted her to be creating more friendships, so..... But there is more action coming up, and if everything goes to plan, a lot of action, and plot defining moments. But not much.  
> I wanted to create a 'best friend' type relationship between Nori and Death. SO I did that little playful thing with them. Do you think it works or is it too out of charater for anyone. I am really worried about going out of character with the dwarves, Gandalf or Bilbo. Or anyone really.


	6. Another King Down

Dwalin considered himself a simple dwarf. He was a warrior, loyal to his King, Princes, and kin. He figured one day he would find a lass or dwarrow to whom he enjoyed the Company of, and perhaps he would have a child or two with her and they would be happy. He believed in love, and Ones, but never thought of one for himself. It was a faraway concept to him, and was always more concerned with not being killed, and doing his duties and controlling crime in Ered Luin. Either that, or there was no one around that ever caught his eye.

Then, she showed up. And just had to be charming, wise and powerful. And not to mention straight up- ‘ _Dwalin!’_ He chided himself. ‘ _Now is NOT the time!’_ He honed in his skill and beheaded the closest goblin. _I swear that woman is going to be the death of me. Well, she is Death. Stop. Focus._ He was having a war inside his head, and he wondered if she knew how she made him feel, to him she was a steady presence with him. It was truly remarkable what an impression she has already made on him in such a short period of time. How long has it been since they first met? A week? Two weeks? He swung his axe in a semicircle and beheaded two more goblins. These creatures were easy targets, normally, but when there was possibly more than a hundred against eight, it was a little more difficult. He looked over when he heard a yelp, and saw Death being cornered on the edge of the cliff by about twenty goblins. She had a fierce face on and looked to be calm, in a battle ready, fighting way. The thin earth beneath began to crumble, and you saw a panic flash in her eyes. Dwalin began fighting with a new ferocity, trying to get to her, he was so close, but the earth completely crumbled and you could see her figure plummeting into the darkness of the mountain crevice. All of the dwarves froze for a moment, only a moment, in shock more than anything. They knew she was immortal, and she was nearly un-killable, but how could someone survive that fall?

Dwalin’s attention flashed over to the goblins, and he went terminator, beheading left and right, killing everything in his path. More goblins streamed into the battle, it took about fifty goblins to bring Dwalin down and get him in captivity. He still fought as the goblins took them away, no doubt to goblin town. He had her, then he lost her. But would she ever be back?

Goblin Town was just as hideous and unkempt as the last time they were captured there. The bridges were in tatters, and crudely made. The ones that had been recently rebuilt from where they had destroyed them. In fact, the only thing that was significantly different was the King. The goblins had apparently quickly appointed a new king. And as they were guided to the ‘throne’ if you could call that monstrosity that, the dwarves all thought the new king was much better looking than the last. This king was thinner than the last, probably because he hadn’t had time to fatten up with laziness, he was pale, sickly green, and had long crooked nose. He stood from his throne and turned out to be quite tall, he had a pot belly, and was wearing tatters of a brown tunic that barely covered his private parts.

“What have we here?” He asked in a slimy voice. A short, chubby goblin stepped forward.

“Dwarves, and a wizard, your greatness.” He sneered.

“The wizard who murdered our last king!” A larger goblin barked. The Goblin King raised a disgusting eyebrow, and scowled.

“What are you doing here, Mountain King?” Thorin practically growled at the great goblin, and took a threatening step forward.

“Our business is our own.” This was bod for Thorin, they were outnumbered greatly, and though they may a wizard, he does not have the advantage of surprise like last time. So what hope have they?

“Your business has brought you here. To _my_ kingdom.  So, speak. What has brought you to these parts?” The Goblin King waited for a moment, but the only answer was silence. “Fine, if they will not talk. They will scream, and _die._ ” He ground out in anger. There was a feminine laugh that resounded though Goblin Town, and everyone stiffened.  
“You will scream, and die.” It mocked in a voice imitating the goblins. “Really?” The voice had changed the direction it came from and they all looked to the source and saw Death sitting at the top of the throne, with a wicked grin on her face. “That’ the best you could come up with?” The Goblin King’s feature contorted into something akin to a grin, but it was hard to tell with goblin what exactly their expressions were.

“Well. Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” He commented. She scowled at him.

“You know. I never have had the _honor_ of killing a Goblin King. I am glad to have it now.” She leapt down gracefully from the throne and stood on the wooden platform. “How should I go about it? Easy, snap of the fingers, or maybe a little electricity, lightning style? How about the classic stab.” She mockingly hummed in thought. “I’m on a little bit of a time crunch.” She said, and raised her hand and snapped her fingers. It was quiet for a moment, then the Goblin King’s eyes glassed over, she walked over to him and kicked him in the gut. He didn’t even make an attempt to stop her, it was as if he were paralyzed. He fell off of the platform and plummeted down through goblin town, bringing parts of the bridges with him. The goblins, dwarves and wizard stood frozen for a minute, as if trying to figure out what just happened.. Death ran over to them and began dragging Thorin through Goblin Town, he gained his wits and shook her off, and the dwarves were, for the second time, running for their lives through Goblin Town. Death was running next to Dwalin, who was beheading and imbedding his axe into each goblin that came anywhere near him.. or her. Death dared a look behind her to check on Bofur, Fili, Kili and Nori, and saw Bofur and Nori fighting back to back far behind. Fili and Kili were in a similar situation as well. Death paused for a moment in her running, as did Dwalin. She looked to him.

“Keep on going I got this.” And she ran back up the rickety bridges, while fumbling in her coat pocket for something.

Dwalin had to make a split second decision. Loyalty told him to go with his King. But his Princes were in danger. Probably much worse danger than Thorin. Death would be fine, she would, she was nearly un-killable, but that didn’t stop the feeling of protectiveness and possessiveness he felt towards her. He looked ahead, beheaded another goblin and dove into the mess of enemies that were swarming towards him and joined Death on her crazy rescue mission.

 

 

Dwalin considered himself a simple dwarf. He was a warrior, loyal to his King, Princes, and kin. He figured one day he would find a lass or dwarrow to whom he enjoyed the Company of, and perhaps he would have a child or two with her and they would be happy. He believed in love, and Ones, but never thought of one for himself. It was a faraway concept to him, and was always more concerned with not being killed, and doing his duties and controlling crime in Ered Luin. Either that, or there was no one around that ever caught his eye.

Then, she showed up. And just had to be charming, wise and powerful. And not to mention straight up- ‘ _Dwalin!’_ He chided himself. ‘ _Now is NOT the time!’_ He honed in his skill and beheaded the closest goblin. _I swear that woman is going to be the death of me. Well, she is Death. Stop. Focus._ He was having a war inside his head, and he wondered if she knew how she made him feel, to him she was a steady presence with him. It was truly remarkable what an impression she has already made on him in such a short period of time. How long has it been since they first met? A week? Two weeks? He swung his axe in a semicircle and beheaded two more goblins. These creatures were easy targets, normally, but when there was possibly more than a hundred against eight, it was a little more difficult. He looked over when he heard a yelp, and saw Death being cornered on the edge of the cliff by about twenty goblins. She had a fierce face on and looked to be calm, in a battle ready, fighting way. The thin earth beneath began to crumble, and you saw a panic flash in her eyes. Dwalin began fighting with a new ferocity, trying to get to her, he was so close, but the earth completely crumbled and you could see her figure plummeting into the darkness of the mountain crevice. All of the dwarves froze for a moment, only a moment, in shock more than anything. They knew she was immortal, and she was nearly un-killable, but how could someone survive that fall?

Dwalin’s attention flashed over to the goblins, and he went terminator, beheading left and right, killing everything in his path. More goblins streamed into the battle, it took about fifty goblins to bring Dwalin down and get him in captivity. He still fought as the goblins took them away, no doubt to goblin town. He had her, then he lost her. But would she ever be back?

Goblin Town was just as hideous and unkempt as the last time they were captured there. The bridges were in tatters, and crudely made. The ones that had been recently rebuilt from where they had destroyed them. In fact, the only thing that was significantly different was the King. The goblins had apparently quickly appointed a new king. And as they were guided to the ‘throne’ if you could call that monstrosity that, the dwarves all thought the new king was much better looking than the last. This king was thinner than the last, probably because he hadn’t had time to fatten up with laziness, he was pale, sickly green, and had long crooked nose. He stood from his throne and turned out to be quite tall, he had a pot belly, and was wearing tatters of a brown tunic that barely covered his private parts.

“What have we here?” He asked in a slimy voice. A short, chubby goblin stepped forward.

“Dwarves, and a wizard, your greatness.” He sneered.

“The wizard who murdered our last king!” A larger goblin barked. The Goblin King raised a disgusting eyebrow, and scowled.

“What are you doing here, Mountain King?” Thorin practically growled at the great goblin, and took a threatening step forward.

“Our business is our own.” This was bod for Thorin, they were outnumbered greatly, and though they may a wizard, he does not have the advantage of surprise like last time. So what hope have they?

“Your business has brought you here. To _my_ kingdom.  So, speak. What has brought you to these parts?” The Goblin King waited for a moment, but the only answer was silence. “Fine, if they will not talk. They will scream, and _die._ ” He ground out in anger. There was a feminine laugh that resounded though Goblin Town, and everyone stiffened.  
“You will scream, and die.” It mocked in a voice imitating the goblins. “Really?” The voice had changed the direction it came from and they all looked to the source and saw Death sitting at the top of the throne, with a wicked grin on her face. “That’ the best you could come up with?” The Goblin King’s feature contorted into something akin to a grin, but it was hard to tell with goblin what exactly their expressions were.

“Well. Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” He commented. She scowled at him.

“You know. I never have had the _honor_ of killing a Goblin King. I am glad to have it now.” She leapt down gracefully from the throne and stood on the wooden platform. “How should I go about it? Easy, snap of the fingers, or maybe a little electricity, lightning style? How about the classic stab.” She mockingly hummed in thought. “I’m on a little bit of a time crunch.” She said, and raised her hand and snapped her fingers. It was quiet for a moment, then the Goblin King’s eyes glassed over, she walked over to him and kicked him in the gut. He didn’t even make an attempt to stop her, it was as if he were paralyzed. He fell off of the platform and plummeted down through goblin town, bringing parts of the bridges with him. The goblins, dwarves and wizard stood frozen for a minute, as if trying to figure out what just happened.. Death ran over to them and began dragging Thorin through Goblin Town, he gained his wits and shook her off, and the dwarves were, for the second time, running for their lives through Goblin Town. Death was running next to Dwalin, who was beheading and imbedding his axe into each goblin that came anywhere near him.. or her. Death dared a look behind her to check on Bofur, Fili, Kili and Nori, and saw Bofur and Nori fighting back to back far behind. Fili and Kili were in a similar situation as well. Death paused for a moment in her running, as did Dwalin. She looked to him.

“Keep on going I got this.” And she ran back up the rickety bridges, while fumbling in her coat pocket for something.

Dwalin had to make a split second decision. Loyalty told him to go with his King. But his Princes were in danger. Probably much worse danger than Thorin. Death would be fine, she would, she was nearly un-killable, but that didn’t stop the feeling of protectiveness and possessiveness he felt towards her. He looked ahead, beheaded another goblin and dove into the mess of enemies that were swarming towards him and joined Death on her crazy rescue mission.

 

 

 


	7. Purple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fighting teams, and how Death rescued them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter, I am working on the next one, though it will probably be another week before the next chapter will be posted.

Bofur was terrified, just like any normal, sane person would be. There were goblins everywhere. Everywhere he looked there were more enemies. This was why he was grateful that he felt Nori on his back. The two were fighting back to back in goblin town. 

He stole a glance around after fending of three goblins with a swing of his mattock. He saw Fili and Kili fighting back to back like themselves a little farther down the path. He saw a flash of motion out of the corner of his eye, and there was Nori with a dagger imbedded in the head of a goblin. 

"Thanks." Bofur breathed, and then slammed his mattock into the abdomen of a pasty creature nearing Nori. Nori nodded in return, and continued their seemingly futile endeavor.

The two fought fluidly, as if they were made to be a team. Nori would kill ones that got too close, past the barrier that Bofur created around them. He would strike out those that grew too close.

In the fight, time did not really exist. It was just a series of motions, swings, and hoping that they would live. 

 

Dwalin ran after Death, and consequently nearly slammed into her when she stopped. His hands landed on her shoulders. She glanced back at him, and you could see the disapproval in them, but she said nothing. She reached near her belt, and pulled a long, silver sword, seemingly out of nowhere. A year ago, Dwalin may have been amazed, or even freaked out at the appearance of a sword out of thin air. She drew it in front of her, but did not run at the goblins. Now, you are probably wondering, why are neither of them being attacked, or fighting. They are being attacked by goblins aren't they? Well, the goblins seem to be frightened. They are have a large circle swarming around them, but no attacks. There were about a hundred goblins surrounding them, but none attacking. There was a two foot diameter around the two. She drew a circle in debris with a cross in it, and smirked. 

"Goodbye creatures." And with that she slammed the tip of the blade into the center of the cross and a bright purple light shot out from it. The goblins fell like dominoes around them. 

 

Imagine Bofur, Nori, Fili, and Kili's surprise when an expanse of purple flew around them. All their heads flew in the direction of the purple blast and saw Death and Dwalin surrounded by goblin corpses.  _Great!_ Bofur thought cheerfully. 

"Come on!" Death hollered at them, and they both spun around and ran towards the exit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so next chapter will explain the sword, and the purple, and all of that. It is not just another of Death powers, it is really important. And, I think Death is becoming a Mary Sue, or already is. I am going to fix that in the next chapters.


End file.
